


Morning, Sugar

by interrobangman



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Emotions and things and stuff, Fluff, Gentle!Hanzo, Learning to Feel, Learning to L I V E, M/M, No Dialogue, Scandalous face caressing, Sleeping!McCree, inner monologue, learning to love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-08-20 18:37:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20232502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interrobangman/pseuds/interrobangman
Summary: Hanzo reflects on the simple joy of early mornings, learning to love, and the man who showed him how.





	Morning, Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet was inspired by @HAEDRAULICS and @mattast0phic on Twitter, and coincidentally aligns near perfectly with matt's art here: https://twitter.com/mattastr0phic/status/1160777472247549952?s=19
> 
> Give them all your love, I wouldn't have written this if our weren't for them! Love you guys 🥰

These early morning moments of quiet must have been the "simple joys" his brother had spoken of. Hanzo hadn't understood what Genji had been trying to tell him back then. Honour, duty, purpose, those he understood. When he'd joined Overwatch, he’d lost his purpose and honour mattered less in the face of justice. He’d closed down to the world and everything in it in response. It had taken him many months, but now, he was beginning to understand.

He awoke just as the grey morning light only just started to filter in through the window. The room was peaceful and warm, not a single sound save for his breathing. And Jesse's gentle snores. In the past, even something as quiet as McCree’s breaths would have kept him from sleep. It was far rarer nowadays for him to not get a good night’s sleep. Especially with his sleeping partner.

Jesse made a sound and Hanzo flicked his gaze over. The large man was still dreaming, face lax and mouth slightly open. Shuffling in bed so he was facing him, Hanzo laid his bare hand upon Jesse's cheek, his thumb resting just under his cheekbone. He watched with bated breath as Jesse reacted to the touch, turning into it as the smallest of smiles slowly stretched his lips.

Truly, the bone-deep contentment he felt for the moment was what Genji had been telling him about. Perhaps his younger brother had learned something from the Omnic monk after all.

His heart clenched as he watched the cowboy sleep. Jesse was beautiful, handsome most certainly, but in those brief moments before he awoke, he was painfully so. From the hard bristles under his hand to be shaved after a quick shower to the lines in his face and his messy bed head, Hanzo loved every minute detail.

Strange, how deeply he felt for him, considering how they started off. Initially, he'd thought him boisterous, loud and uncouth, uncaring if he disturbed anyone with his antics. Slowly, he'd come to see how the only person bothered by any it was himself. Jesse had a way of capturing your attention, of derailing your thoughts with a quip or two. He was always there to guide the conversation to a light tone with playful looks and easy words. To someone as serious as himself, McCree had seemed glib and it had irked Hanzo fiercely.

Now Hanzo enjoyed those interruptions as much as anyone. It was Jesse’s liveliness that attracted had him in the first place, his lopsided grins and flashes of teeth and those bright, shining eyes full of mirth, like he'd just heard the funniest thing. Now that they'd taken things further, there were other looks interspersed and often at the most inappropriate of times. His eyes would darken, sending Hanzo a scandalous, searing gaze of passion and promise, one only meant for him. Sometimes, he'd say something, a double entendre only Hanzo would truly understand, or a heated whisper while the others were distracted, sending a flush across his skin.

The man lived and breathed emotions in a way Hanzo had never seen before. He let himself feel the full gamut, not just the happier ones. He'd caught McCree with an aged, almost wistful gaze into the distance, the kind he got reliving old, bittersweet memories that hurt to think about. Even his most painful moments were allowed to come through, the ones that brought his face into a horrible sharpness, the ones that Hanzo now felt as keenly as a knife through his own flesh.

McCree felt and shared what he felt so readily that Hanzo had called him out on his weakness once upon a time. In his world of stoic masks and false pleasantries, to show hurt, pain or love was taboo. Emotion was to be used against the enemy, to ferret out secrets, but never to be genuine. He'd told Jesse as much and he'd received a such truly withering look, backed by pity. He hadn't understood. Hanzo had gotten angry, so angry, and all Jesse did was shake his head.

And then, that night, after a number of drinks and shared cigars, he'd shown Hanzo just how wrong he'd been.

Now, watching Jesse dip his chin against his palm, a slow, quiet sigh escaping his lips, Hanzo knew better. Those beautiful laugh lines, the furrows between his brows, the dimples and scars--a stark contrast to Hanzo’s nearly flawless skin--all of it was undeniable proof that Jesse enjoyed life. Wistfully, he hoped at least some of them would have formed because of him by the time they were old and grey. Because although he might still struggle now and again to allow himself to smile, to laugh, to love openly and without fear, he made sure Jesse at least knew how he felt.

And Jesse would reassure him in return, by pulling him along and letting him share in the staggering amount of life he lived. Some days it was dinner at a quiet restaurant or a night at a dive bar, other times they tag along with Hana and Lucio for karaoke, or video games, or whatever else suddenly struck their fancy.

It had taken him almost forty years, but Hanzo was finally living, no longer begrudgingly agreeing to spend the bare minimum amount of time with the team. And the way Jesse would light up at him, how he would join in when Hanzo started singing offkey or laugh at his sorry attempt at a joke made him immensely proud.

And yet, for all their adventures, despite all the bright, bursting sunshine of happiness, Hanzo still treasured the quiet, private moments the most. They felt more honest, more personal. It's the smallest gestures, the tiniest of touches, like his thumb working across Jesse's cheek, that Hanzo thought he'd never get to experience. 

It's those moments of true vulnerability that Hanzo feels his heart filled to the brim. Without saying a single word, without even knowing that he's doing it, even then and there in his sleep, Jesse gives Hanzo the gift his greedy heart pines for most of all.

With a flicker of his eyelids and a deep breath inhaled through his nose, Jesse finally wakes up. His momentary confusion fades away and is replaced by a sleepy grin and unfocused eyes.

"Morning, Sugar."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! ❤️


End file.
